


Wishing

by Wikitiki



Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Crush, One-Sided Relationship, Other, Starvation, Suggested Prostitution, Unrequited Love, slightly darker Wakko's Wish-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikitiki/pseuds/Wikitiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wakko was fairly sure it was never a good time to start developing a crush on one’s own brother, but now was possibly the worst time imaginable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishing

Wakko was fairly sure it was never a good time to start developing a crush on one’s own brother, but now was possibly the worst time imaginable.

They were so cold. They had to huddle together constantly, keeping as close to makeshift fires as possible when the weather allowed. Wakko couldn’t help but notice the way Yakko’s arm curled around him, protective and comforting. He couldn’t help but notice the way Yakko would sink into any similar embraces Wakko offered.

They were starving. They had to beg and scrounge, so much so that Wakko was sometimes almost positive they would be better off sitting around waiting to die, that they were exerting more energy than they were gaining back. But Yakko was determined. And charming and persuasive. They got by.

They needed money. They needed something that passed for clothes. They needed blankets that weren’t thin rags. They needed medicine.

Wakko and Dot never faulted their brother for being weary of venturing out, wandering in the approximate direction of another town to look for work, maybe just for more generous table scraps. When the orphanage shut down, most of the other children eventually decided to take that route. Their bodies usually turned up weeks later, if they were ever found at all.

Yakko seemed to have a natural gift for reading people, knowing what he could get from them and how to get it. He’d get Scratchansniff and Nurse to give them one of their blankets in exchange for the Warners gathering firewood for them a few times. The Warners would share their scattered schooling with Skippy for a handful of nuts or a can of food from Slappy.

But things got worse. Bartering came to an end; there was nothing the Warners could truthfully offer but themselves, which was a poor bargain indeed. The begging became harder, and more like picking up as many crumbs as possible.

Dot’s cough started small, but quickly gained momentum. Wakko had been long making it a habit of feigning sickness to escape Yakko when his feelings got a little too strong for him, but that came to an abrupt halt when he noticed Yakko’s stricken body language at the notion that both of his siblings were sick at the same time. Butterflies in his stomach and hot cheeks could not kill Wakko, not like actual sickness, not like whatever Dot had.

Wakko did find it remarkable that even laying late into the night, his entire body shivering and his stomach empty, wasting away, his brain still had the audacity to wish for disgusting, idiotic things. Not warmth or food or a home, not for Acme Falls to return to its former state, but for his own brother to hold him and kiss him and do things they weren’t supposed to do and things Yakko would never, ever agree to.

Wakko knew he should try to forget it, dream of something else. Imagine warmth and happier times, maybe simple little wishes like Yakko and Dot often made, like for it to be a little warmer tomorrow or for Dot’s cough to let up a little, just for a few days. But these things didn’t distract Wakko enough, could never lull him to any state resembling sleep. So he let himself dream of the impossible.

Though, he was a little afraid he talked in his sleep. Or that he was just too readable. He noticed small, questioning looks from Yakko, slight changes in behavior that usually added up to Yakko interacting with him less and less; a pat on the back where he’d give Dot a nuzzling hug, a short “Goodnight,” in place of anything else.

Wakko found he didn’t mind. As reality became worse and worse, he was able to separate it from his wishing far more easily.

As they got weaker and more desperate, something steely seeped into Yakko’s features. He seemed suddenly drawn up, darkly pensive. Almost royal.

When Dot’s cough lasted for a week, Yakko slid out of his siblings’ grasps (with plenty of whines of protest from both of them), and told both of them to stay inside and try to sleep. It was edging on late into the night, but the sounds of a few villagers and a few travelers who had stopped for the night lingered.

“Where are you going?” Dot was the one who asked but Yakko looked at Wakko instead. The way his chin set spoke of aristocracy, but fear slipped through his eyes.

“I need to—” Dot coughed, and both of her brothers winced. “I need to talk to someone. Just stay here, you need rest, and—And Wakko, you need to make sure Dot stays warm, okay?”

Wakko was near following him until he said that, and Dot nestled in a little closer, her breathing sounding weird and raspy. Yakko didn’t wait for any confirmation, simply slid out into the dim light of the town.

Wakko knew something was different about this. The anxiety wasn’t enough to leave Dot or drag her along so he could follow, but it kept him awake until Yakko slipped back in, hours later. He didn’t pretend he was asleep, openly watching Yakko avoid his gaze and put down whatever things he’d apparently gotten while he was out.

In the dull moonlight, Yakko looked strange. Tired and half-broken and still, for some reason, afraid. It all slid off of his face when Wakko reached out for him, careful to not disturb Dot. Yakko draped something soft and warm over them, then seemed to collapse into Wakko, reaching around to hold onto Dot but mostly curling around his brother. The way Yakko sighed into his fur made Wakko’s chest flutter, and he ignored it absently, concern shoving away infatuation.

The next day, Wakko found Yakko had procured a blanket, a few candles, some food. Yakko shrugged and said something about the travelers being generous, then elbowed Wakko in the ribs and muttered, “When they’re a little inebriated.”

Wakko let it go. Yakko slipping off in the night was scattered and sporadic, usually when a few wayward travelers stumbled off the train or needed to rest their horses. He always waited until late at night, when Dot was good and tired, and it became nearly impossible for Wakko to leave her alone and follow.

He saw glimpses. The strange way Yakko held himself in the shadows, brief conversations with strangers. It unsettled Wakko.

He didn’t question it until he found the money. It wasn’t much at all, meaningless a town over, but it was substantial for Acme Falls. A few coins of worthless medal.

“It’s enough for a two-way train ticket,” Yakko rasped, and Wakko could see it in his eyes. Three one-way tickets into uncertainty, if they were even possible, weren’t worth the risk, weren’t worth the strangers and the shadows or deeper starvation.

“I’ll go.” 

Yakko seemed to size his brother up. Wakko initially said it because there were so many strangers and dark alleys and Yakko was better at faking a smile for Dot, anyway. In the small space of time before Yakko spoke, Wakko tried to follow his thoughts. Wakko was strong, young, wearily innocent. He could make some money, hopefully without getting too hurt along the way.

“You’ll be fine.” It was a statement, not a question, and Wakko nodded in agreement.

“We’ll be fine,” Wakko tried, but only got the appeasing smile Yakko would give Dot when she insisted she was getting better.

Yakko’s smile eventually fell, and Wakko realized he was looking absently at his little brother’s hands. Just as it hit Wakko that he would be leaving very soon, going off into a world without his siblings, without anything, Yakko looked back up at him, one half of his mouth tugged up in a small smile.

For a fleeting moment, Wakko forgot to breathe. It looked, almost, like Yakko might lean forward and kiss him. Yakko even leaned forward the slightest bit, but Wakko quickly realized he was just shifting so he could ruffle the fur between Wakko’s ears as he walked away.

“You’re my favorite brother, Wak, you know that?”

Wakko hoped the short, strangled noise he made sounded even halfway like a laugh.


End file.
